


Rooftops

by lesbomancy



Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-09
Updated: 2017-08-09
Packaged: 2018-12-13 11:03:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11758473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesbomancy/pseuds/lesbomancy
Summary: Corvo Attano, the Royal Protector, isn't one to not spy on people. He follows Emily to her favorite haunt just to let her know how impressed he is.Day 5 of Challenge Yourself: A Month of Fanfiction.





	Rooftops

It wasn't often that the Royal Protector was able to catch the Empress in the act of her escape. Despite his skill, Emily had a slippery way of being once she was without the courtiers and sycophants. He knew that in another life she would've been the type to have a job like his, or in some unfortunate circumstance one of those people who ran gangs in the underbelly that every city in the world had. He took solace in that he felt she'd never go as far as he has, that she'd never be a killer and if she ever did it would be an unavoidable death. Even having met the Outsider, having lived the life he had, the idea of his Emily become even remotely corrupt scared him more than anything. The hairs on his neck stood up as he situated himself on the rooftop where Emily typically went to relax before meeting her Wyman.

In true Royal Protector fashion, he had a handful of apples from someone's balcony that he nicked on the way over. It wouldn't do for him to be without food while performing frighteningly daring feats of parkour while traversing Dunwall's brutalist and tall architecture that he loved so much. In that same odd fashion that no one but Corvo (and arguably Emily) had he discarded the apple core into the alley below. Perched on a smokestack, he watched it splatter on the pavement. A nearby transient nearby shit themselves out of their skin with the impact and they looked up. Knowing full well he was resting in the shadows, Corvo only smirked at the man below. A single white rat scurried out from a grate, it's little hands picking up to inspect what remained of the core before it ferried it away back where it came.

The sliding of a shingle caught him off guard, his hand reaching to his waist for his blade. In the split second it would've taken him to cross the gap to where the shingle fell and kill whomever it was that disturbed him, he quickly recognized the source of it: Emily. She hadn't seen him yet and the shingle that shifted and gave her position away didn't look to be her fault. If it wasn't for that he never would've seen her. He smiled wide, pride swelling in him as he watched her settle in on the edge of the rooftop, overlooking a good portion of Dunwall skyline. Corvo slid down the smokestack, making no noise as he approached Emily.

"You know, you're not as subtle as you think you are," he said as he sat down. "But you're a lot better than I was at your age."

Emily lowered her mask, almost so caught up that Corvo announcing himself would've set her off. Her foul-up with the shingle had her grounded, though, sparing Corvo the luxury of seeing her startle.

"I'm still learning. Give me another twenty years and I'll scare all the gray out of your hair."

Corvo laughed softly as he settled in, glancing down to her meeting spot with Wyman. She was already there, sitting on a bench in a small park with a book. Corvo already knew their itinerary for the dalliance; theater, then some sort of traveling circus from Morley. Never fond of the royal escort, Emily would rather endanger herself than be smart. Like father, like daughter.

"You know these royal affairs never quite end like you want them to," Corvo warned.

"I know. But it's like you've always said: it's impossible to tell me to stop doing something that I want to do."

Emily smiled, placing her hand into Corvo's. He squeezed it, taking a long breath.

"For what it's worth," she continued. "I think it's love. She's sweet and wise and I think you'd like her."

"Beyond the occasional glance as the Royal Protector, you mean."

"Beyond the occasional glance."

"Maybe," Corvo said.

"There's a lot more you can do for me than just be the man who keeps tabs on the people I'm around. You know I'm capable of defending myself."

He could feel Emily's disapproval, the judgement hidden underneath the playful banter; a daughter pleading for her father to act like her father and not the man tasked with keeping her alive.

"Invite her to the next party and I'll sit next to her. Maybe we'll hit it off."

Emily squeezed Corvo's hand, smiling. "Thank you. That's all I want, just to hear you try to make the effort."

"Big task, considering how often I talk."

"Yet I still manage to squeeze the rag dry and get something."

"You're Empress Emily Kaldwin. Even if we were in the middle of a desert you'd manage to get water from somewhere."

"Don't push it," Emily said pointedly. She tugged her hand away from Corvo's and gave him a quick hug. Scooting to the very edge of the building, she considered her next move; the top of a light post only about five feet down. She'd jump to a balcony and shimmy down the pole. "I'm late. See you back at the palace."

"See yo-..." He was cut off by Emily dropping.

Corvo watched as Emily slipped away, her youthful drive for excitement seeing her, the Empress, climbing down lights and across thin wires like a gymnast. He wondered, then, if the interest in the circus was purely for entertainment or so she could pick up a few new tricks. He waited until she had both boots on the ground and approached Wyman. Seeing them both smile, embrace, and kiss was bittersweet. His little girl was grown more noticeably now than ever before. She was a ruler, a woman of renown and one ready to make her mark on history. It still felt hollow to the smallest extent without Jessamine, though he always favored himself an observer in Emily's life rather than an interloper. Perhaps if she truly did want him to meet Wyman, he'd make some conversation; maybe a flank of blood oxen steak would make up the difference in his lackluster conversational skills. He had to try - Emily was more than just his daughter and Empress, she was his best friend in the entire world.


End file.
